The First Time I Saw Your Face

by Hazel Osmond

  It was Brenda who answered. ‘Hello, love,’ she said, ‘it’s all right, we didn’t expect—’

  ‘Stop talking, Mum,’ she shrieked into the phone, ‘listen, just listen, I need you to go to the computer and look up a name.’ She ignored the way her mother was trying to butt back in. ‘Mack Stone, look it up for me.’

  She could hear Bryony in the background and then her mother again.

  ‘Mack what?’ her mother said, sounding out of breath.

  ‘Stone, please hurry, Mum.’

  ‘I’m looking, I’m looking, and Bry’s on her way. What’s happened, love, has he hurt you? Has he—’

  ‘What, Mum, what have you found?’

  Her mother’s voice was panicky. ‘He’s a journalist. Freelance down in Bath, but before that on one of the tabloids.’

  Jennifer felt the phone drop from her hand and clatter off the bench and the world tilted around her and she was on the ground on her knees. She slammed the bench with her hands, registering on some level that she was hurting herself, but still doing it. She was shrieking something, and then the thought that he might be coming after her got her back on her feet. She ran for home, all those scenes in bed playing in her head; that time on the beach, the way he always put his hand over hers. None of it real. She had been nothing to him, just a way to get to Cress.

  What had she told him, what had she blabbed?

  She turned on her ankle and fell, and then she was aware of nothing until Bryony was lifting her under the arms and half-carrying, half-dragging her towards the car.

  CHAPTER 34

  Mack told the taxi to wait where the track divided and, as he walked towards the farm, saw Ray coming towards him. There was no trace of the usual ambling, relaxed attitude.

  When Ray lifted his head it looked as if, since yesterday evening, the muscles under his skin had sagged.

  He halted a few feet from Mack.

  ‘You’re unwelcome here,’ he said in a voice devoid of any emotion. ‘Get gone.’ Mack felt his passport hit him on the arm as Ray threw it. Down it went on the path, and he did not bend to pick it up.

  ‘Ray, please. I need to know how Jen is. I need to talk to her.’

  ‘Don’t you …’ Ray said it with such force it made Mack flinch. ‘Don’t you talk about her.’ His hands, down by his sides, were working away at themselves, clenching and unclenching.

  ‘Please, Ray, I can explain. I know what it looks like—’

  ‘It looks like what it is.’ Ray laughed bitterly. ‘You used her. You used all of us. Coming into our lives. Coming into my home. Lying.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t like that.’

  Ray turned his head away, the look of disgust unmistakable and Mack rushed on, the words tumbling out. ‘I mean that’s what it was at the start and, Ray, I’m so, so sorry about that … but it changed, I changed. I fell in love with Jen. I know you won’t believe me. But I was going to tell her the truth, just before she found that passport; I was going to tell her the truth.’

  Ray started to walk away.

  ‘No,’ Mack shouted, running and getting in front of him. He put his hand out to try and make contact, and Ray looked down at it and then up at him from under his brows.

  ‘Don’t touch me.’

  ‘I just need to know how she is.’

  ‘How she is? How do you think she is?’ Ray looked out over the fields, but Mack felt he was seeing some other place. ‘What have you done to us? I thought the worst day of my life was sitting in that hospital knowing that people would look at my lovely Jen and only see that scarring. That her life was going to be so different from what she had planned. But Bren said we had to pull ourselves together, be positive, we could have been putting her in a box.’ Ray shook his head as if dislodging that image. ‘So how do we get her back on her feet now, Mr Stone? She’s just lying there asking why someone would treat her like this. That’s how she bloody is.’

  Mack pictured that and could not bear it. ‘Please, Ray, let me go to her, talk to her, explain everything. I really love her. Last night was real. Tell her it wasn’t all about fooling her … I never meant to do this … I mean; I did before I knew her. No, I mean—’

  ‘You can’t even get your story straight for yourself. You used my daughter to get to Cressida. For money.’

  ‘No,’ Mack said trying again to reach out and touch Ray, ‘not for money, there was another reason. My mother—’

  ‘You must have been laughing up your sleeve at us. Thick northerners, so easy to win over. We’re not even real people to you are we, so far from London?’

  ‘Ray, I had to do this job to get my mother—’

  ‘Stop lying to me,’ Ray shouted and the ferocity of the words from a man who had always seemed so gentle made Mack dumb. ‘Look me in the bloody eye,’ Ray said, ‘and tell me this wasn’t about making money for somebody who’s already rich. Go on.’

  Mack hung his head.

  ‘What, suddenly lost that famous gift of the gab?’ Ray stooped, picked up Mack’s passport and came and shoved it in his pocket. ‘Callous enough lying to her, but making her believe you were attracted to her? That’s evil. Now get gone. Danny’s away off taking Louise to visit her other granny; he’s no idea what’s happened, but he’ll be back soon. I don’t want him put away for what he might do to you.’

  Ray started walking again and Mack knew there was nothing else he could do, not now. He returned to the taxi, stopping and looking down at the farm before he got in to try and commit the fields and the trees and the river to his memory. On the drive to the airport he imagined Jennifer lying dry-eyed on her bed, believing that all he’d done was use her and that she meant nothing to him, and it seared through him like a burn.

  When O’Dowd’s phone rang, he ignored it. Probably angling to see if Mack had heard anything yet. He would get a flight to Bristol and a taxi to Bath and think what to do next. But what was there to do other than confirm Rory Sylvester was Cressida’s lover? He wound down the window, hoping the fresh air would make him feel less queasy.

  At the airport he stood in the queue to buy a ticket and suddenly felt an arm come around his neck and pull him backwards.

  ‘You shit,’ Doug said, hauling him round and then smacking him right across the face, ‘you conniving little shit.’ He no longer looked like a clown – his face flushed with colour, his eyes stormy.

  People were looking, moving away hurriedly, and Mack tried to open his mouth to speak, but Doug hit him again. There was blood on his tongue and suddenly a security guard was piling towards them.

  ‘Break it up, break it up,’ he was shouting, ‘I’m going to …’ He stared at Doug. ‘Hey, is that you? Doug Bythorn?’

  Doug stared back. ‘Why, Len, yeah, yeah it is. Long time no see.’ Doug held out a hand for shaking, still keeping a firm hold on Mack with the other one. ‘How’s it gannin’?’

  ‘Champion, Doug. You’re doing great too, seen some of your stuff.’ The guard was smiling, but he looked at the gathering crowd and then at Mack. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘Tabloid journalist,’ Doug said, giving Mack a shake. ‘I won’t tell you what he’s done to a good friend of mine, lovely lass, but beating’s too good for him.’

  The guard tutted. ‘I’m sorry about that, Doug … but I can’t let you fight in here. You’ll have to go outside.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Place up the side of the building, where I go for a sly tab: it’s a CCTV blind spot.’

  Mack felt himself being dragged towards the exit, the crowd parting before them. He didn’t struggle; he deserved what was coming.

  Doug pushed him up against the wall, his feet scuffing aside the cigarette stubs, and Mack waited for the pain to start.

  ‘I liked you, I bloody liked you,’ Doug said putting his hands round Mack’s neck, and Mack remembered that night when he’d seen Doug squeezing the life out of the steering wheel.

  ‘I liked you too,’ he rasped back and felt Doug’s grip tighten.

  ‘B
loody liar, you were laughing at me, but it’s Jen I’m doing this for.’ Mack couldn’t breathe properly. He had spots in front of his eyes.

  ‘Kill me, Doug,’ he croaked, ‘you’d be doing me a favour.’

  Doug gave him a shake and then, confusingly, his grip started to loosen.

  ‘You bastard,’ Doug said, removing one hand from Mack’s neck to wipe over his own eyes. ‘I threw you two together all the time. It’s my fault, all my fault.’

  ‘No Doug, listen—’

  Doug removed his other hand from Mack’s neck. ‘I’m not going to touch you any more, you’re dirty, a virus. Get on your plane.’ He gave Mack a final shove and strode away.

  Mack got himself back in the queue for the tickets, the security guard shadowing him, and he was nearly at the desk when he felt himself being pulled backwards again.

  ‘Say your prayers, scumbag,’ Danny shouted.

  When he finally made it on to the plane, the stewardess came up the aisle to hand him a paper towel with bits of ice in it. He sat and held it to the cut on his forehead and just let the blood from his nose dribble on to his shirt. He wasn’t sure that one of his ribs wasn’t broken, but he had escaped lightly. If Bryony hadn’t pulled Danny away he was under no illusions about what would have happened. The fury coming off the guy was like another fist.

  He leaned forward and got the sick bag out of the pocket in front of him and retched into it. People were staring, and he was in real pain, but he knew it was nothing compared to what Jennifer was feeling. He retched again.

  ‘Rough stag night?’ the woman next to him asked.

  CHAPTER 35

  Jen sat on the side of the bath, her legs shaking, and remembered being in Matt’s bathroom before she’d found that passport.

  No, not Matt. Mack.

  All those lies, all that acting. Those wonderful things he’d said to her. Had he been acting in bed too? She couldn’t think about that.

  There was a knock on the door.

  ‘Jen, are you in there?’ her mother said.

  Her mother had been right all along, and she hadn’t wanted to hear it. She was too busy grabbing at that shiny strand of hope he’d dangled in front of her. How could she have thought he would find her attractive? She imagined him laughing on the phone to his friends in … in where, where did he come from?

  ‘Jen,’ her mother shouted, ‘answer me.’

  She looked at the toothbrushes in the mug on the shelf above the sink and at her father’s razor. Creature of habit, Ray, he’d never used the electric one Danny had bought him. She got up and put her hand on it. Only once before she’d thought about this, a couple of months after coming out of hospital when something had clicked in her mind and she’d realised that how her face looked was permanent.

  Would it hurt as much as this hurt now? Oh Matt, Matt, you were so lovely and I was so gullible. If she could only go to sleep and not wake up again.

  She heard other voices outside the door.

  ‘Open the door, Jen, love. Now, Jen!’

  She took her hand off the razor and drifted back towards the door, unable to work the bolt, but then managing it.

  ‘You were right, Mum,’ she said when she opened the door. ‘All the time you were right about him.’

  Her mother put her arm around her and steered her back to the bedroom. ‘Let’s not talk about that now, love. That’s not important. Come on; have a little lie-down before Cress gets here.’

  Jennifer let Brenda put her into bed and felt tiredness start to pull her down. ‘Cress is going to be so angry with me,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t be daft, nobody blames you, darling. It’s him we’re all angry with. So angry.’

  ‘How can you be?’ she said. ‘He doesn’t exist.’

  CHAPTER 36

  It was muggy in the room. Mack tried to open one of the sash windows, but his ribs hurt too much. Outside, grey houses faced him, uniform and dull, the Bath stone looking depressing under the clouds. He wished he was looking out on all those different shades of green.

  Picking O’Dowd’s mobile out of his pocket took some effort and when he had, he went over yet again what his options were. Ignore O’Dowd and he’d print what he already had and throw him and his family to the wolves. Result: he’d have still lost Jennifer and shafted his family. Or, ring O’Dowd and confirm it was Rory. Result: he’d still have lost Jennifer, but his family would be off the hook.

  He wasn’t even going to think about what Cressida Chartwell would to do to him when she found out. Correction, what her lawyers would do.

  He got out his own mobile and tried Jennifer’s number again and the number of the farm. No reply. Had he really been expecting one?

  He’d have to ring O’Dowd soon. What if someone spotted Cressida flying into the country and O’Dowd rang, full of fury about why he was the last to know she was here?

  He plonked both phones on the bookcase and limped over to the sofa. Lowering himself on to it, he worried away at what he should do, trying to tune out the throbbing in his ribs until it filtered through to his brain that someone down in the street was ringing the front doorbell.

  That’s how it started this morning.

  Nobody knew he was back. He waited for the ringing to stop, but it seemed to intensify and now he was sure he could hear banging too.

  It’s Danny, he’s followed me here.

  That thought should have scared him, but maybe if he was beaten senseless he couldn’t think about Jen. He moved tentatively out of his flat, catching sight of his puffed-up eye and massive lip in the mirror on the landing and clutched at the banisters as he went downstairs. Just before opening the front door he had the insane idea that it might be Jen herself out there. His heart bucked in his chest.

  It was not Jen, or Danny, or anyone else from Northumberland. It was a man who appeared to be totally square and his delicately braided hair looked incongruous on top of all that bulk. Seconds later, Mack found himself lifted off his feet and was being hauled back up the stairs. The pain was so intense that he swore he could hear the front doorbell still ringing in his ears.

  He must have looked like a cartoon, his legs a blur as he struggled to keep up. In the flat he was deposited on the sofa and closed his eyes to cope with the pain. When he opened them again Cressida Chartwell was standing in front of him. She took off her sunglasses.

  ‘Pull the curtains and turn on the light please, Chuck,’ she said in that cut-glass, but somehow classless accent of hers. When Chuck had done as he was asked, she indicated the ladder-back chair, and it was placed a few feet from the sofa. Cressida sat in it and very politely told Chuck to make himself comfortable in the kitchen. She would call him if she needed him.

  ‘I want to start,’ she said, looking Mack straight in the face, ‘by telling you why Chuck is called Chuck when his real name isn’t even Charles. It is because when he finishes with people they look like chuck steak. This is no exaggeration. I hope you believe that?’

  He nodded, although he was finding it hard to believe anything, particularly that this was not all some kind of hallucination brought on by his injuries. Cressida Chartwell was here in his living room. Hollywood had worked its magic on every inch of her – she smelt headily exotic; the suit she was wearing was pale and obviously expensive; her nails were buffed; her hair glossy; her shoes so delicate they would only just get her from red carpet to limo. An aura of languorous glamour hung about her as if she was some rare orchid. Except today she looked red-eyed and drawn, and Mack knew that this was probably down to him. Why was she here? Why hadn’t she gone straight to the farm?

  ‘I see that someone has already started teaching you a lesson, ratboy,’ she was saying, her calm delivery very, very disturbing. ‘You’ll have to forgive me if I seem a little slow to wade in myself. Jet lag, getting this news just as we landed: I’m making up my response to it as I go along, on the hoof as it were. But whatever I decide it will involve letting Chuck back in this room.’

  He
tried to disappear into the sofa, unable to think of anything other than how much he deserved this. He was pathetic. Scum of the earth. A lying, deceitful bastard.

  ‘You are pathetic, scum of the earth. A lying, deceitful bastard,’ Cressida said.

  It sounded worse coming out of her mouth, each vowel and consonant given its proper weight. He wanted to shout ‘I know, I know’. What he tried to do was tell her why he’d even set out on this job in the first place.

  ‘Save it, not interested,’ she cut across him. ‘My concern is Jen and how to sort out this current mess. Of course I’d also like to crucify you afterwards, bring a case against you for, oh, I don’t know, obtaining pecuniary advantage by deception, breach of privacy … anything my lawyers can think of. I would go for you as much as someone who’s willing to pay anything can go for someone. I’d go for that bastard O’Dowd too and the bigger bastard who owns the paper – the lot.’

  ‘Luckily for you,’ her mouth did a little twisting motion, ‘that’s not going to happen. I have talked to Brenda and Ray on the way here. They’re adamant that it ends now. Can’t bear having Jennifer’s life paraded through the courts for everyone to gawp at. So … regretfully, I have to concur with their wishes. Which just leaves me with damage limitation. I am going to keep Jennifer’s name out of this if it kills me. I’m presuming that although O’Dowd hasn’t rung me yet to gloat, this is going in tomorrow’s papers?’

  She was on her feet, moving around the room, stopping now and again and then pacing on, and he was waiting for her to mention the words ‘injunction’ or even ‘super injunction’, but she suddenly stopped by the bookcase and snatched up one of the phones.

  ‘This the one you call O’Dowd on?’ When he nodded, she chucked it at him.

  ‘Ring him back. Tell him I’ll flesh out his story if he—’

  ‘He hasn’t got the story yet, well not the confirmed one,’ he said quickly. ‘I never rang him back after you talked to Jen yesterday.’